A Tale of Valoran
by Zergon II
Summary: Years have passed since the last Rune War ended, but the enemies of the Alliance are regrouping. A group of champions start a quest throughout Valoran in an attempt to destroy the evil of Noxus and its allies.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Long time ago, Runeterra was created.

It was a beautiful, vast world full of mysteries and surprises. Everything was at peace, for humans and yordles had not been created yet. Forests and deserts spread rapidly. Great mountains rose with power from below the earth. Runeterra had magical forces in its core which were harmoniously balanced in nature, and controlled everything.

Valoran was the most important part of Runeterra. It was a colossal continent, surrounded entirely by water, with many islands floating around it. Everything was at peace in Valoran, and soon humans appeared and took possession of the land. They learned to control the magic from Runeterra's core, using it for good purposes.

Along the western coast, Demacia was born. It shined as a paragon of virtue amongst all other human settlements. Its citizens were always looking for absolute justice, driven by their common cause to disseminate benevolence and order throughout Valoran. They view malice and selfishness as a disease. Crime in any form was harshly punished. The Demacians stood by their own convictions.

But they weren't alone, for they had allies.

To the northeast Piltover, the City of Progress was designed, and became the leading center of ecologically-minded techmaturgical research on Valoran. Its great academies and their contribution to science became known across the land. Piltover's citizens pursuit knowledge at all times, which has led them to exceptional discoveries.

North of Valoran, amidst the great, cold mountains of old, Freljord rose. It was an unforgiving place; a mountainous land covered in snow and ice, home to many vicious ice storms. It citizens were once divided, yet with the passing of time the conflict was resolved.

Ionia, an island off the east coast of mainland Valoran, was also developed. It became a naturally beautiful nation, full of ancient trees, tall mountains and tranquil rivers. Ionia was a haven for beings who seek spiritual evolution and enlightment. It was filled with spiritual centers and schools, each one working in harmony with one another to find the answers to life's mystical questions. The Ionians were extremely peaceful by nature.

Some time later, the yordles appeared. At first they were a nomadic race, travelling around the continent for many years, but finally they established along the southeastern coast of Valoran, behind the safety of the Sablestone Mountain range, and founded Bandle City. While their society may have seemed like a simple rural community, the city itself held a great deal of intrigue and mystery. The yordles generally were a peaceful and amicable race, often marked with streaks of joviality and light prankishness; their moral compass was most often pointed toward goodness and benevolence. Their desire for social interaction was very strong. But they were still vulnerable to cruelty and evil.

The Days of Peace lasted long and were prosperous, but soon they ended, for Noxus appeared.

It was a city that resembled its own habitants – dark and sinister. Noxus quickly became a powerful nation in which the physically and mentally strong acquired power through any means, regardless of the consequences to their fellow citizens. For the Noxians, only the strong would survive. They corrupted Runeterra's magical forces and started using it for evil motives. They became enemies of the Demacians, who believed that Noxus' justice system and law were absolutely wrong and mistaken. Soon, Valoran was in chaos, as these two great nations stroked against each other. Yet war prevailed for many centuries, for Noxus also had its allies.

North of Noxus, near Piltover, Zaun was created. This city was both supported and ruined by unchecked industry, mercantilism and magic run amok. The pollution from the countless factories and laboratories were constantly spewed into the environment, which made Piltover enrage. Both cities also started fighting against each other.

Finally, on Blue Flame Island, off the southeastern coast of Valoran, Bilgewater was born. Over the years, it became a vital stop for trade ships traveling near the island, and also a major refuge for piracy. The native inhabitants were rugged seafaring folk and many were also pirates. Bilgewater was a relatively lawless city. Pirates started assaulting yordle vessels and ruthlessly pillaging settlements along Ionia's coastlands.

Demacia, Piltover, Freljord, Ionia and Bandle City formed an Alliance to fight against Noxus, Zaun and Bilgewater. All these conflicts became known as the Rune Wars, and lasted centuries.

These wars were remembered for the great death that brought to every nation in Valoran. Magic warfare had disastrous consequences. Armies would be enhanced or decimated by spell and rune alike. Champions made the most of magical items forged for them as they led or supported armies. Mages would unleash mighty magical powers directly against foes and their holdings with little regard for consequence.

Within the last two hundred years, the dangers of unchecked magical warfare began to expose the fragility of Runeterra to everyone residing in Valoran. The last two Rune Wars drastically altered the geophysical landscape of Valoran, even after magical energy was focused on restoring it. Violent earthquakes and horrific magically-fueled storms made life on Valoran challenging.

It was theorized that another unchecked Rune War would tear the world asunder.

So, for the first time ever, the Alliance made a Pact with their enemies. The Rune Wars were over, yet enmity prevailed. The years passed and the Pact prevailed, but not forever, for the enemy is starting to regroup, ignoring the possibility that another war would destroy the world. They strongly desire to watch the Alliance burn.

But a shadow also stirs in the northwest. The Shadow Isles seek destruction. The Void is awakening. The Alliance is in danger as the threat grows each day. Hope is decaying. All what remains is just wait for the end.


	2. I - The Call

I

The Call

**The music she created** was beautiful and inspiring. The moment was so surreal, he thought he was dreaming.

It remembered him about old stories that his parents used to tell him at night. Those memories came back to his mind as if he had blown over a dusty book. They had happened so long ago, that he doubted if they were real. He saw in his mind vague memories of his childhood. He saw his father, teaching him how to use a sword; his mother, kissing him when she left them alone. The moment he joined the army. Watching his father die…

He cleared those thoughts from his mind. His childhood had been really harsh. He preferred to move forward. Ignore everything what had happened before.

But that music… it was so magical, he almost felt as if he was in a trance.

When he opened his eyes, his sister was holding him tight so he wouldn't fall off his seat. She looked concerned.

"Garen… are you ok?" she asked. Her eyes were so distracting that they made him forget about the memories. Both irises changed color from blue to green to black. He was now fully awake and aware of his movements.

"What? Oh, yeah, it's nothing," he replied. "It's just this music… There's something about it... I just can't find the words to describe it."

"Shhh!" someone from behind whispered at them.

She looked back with a fiery look, and nobody else bothered them again.

"_Maybe they recognized her," _Garen thought.

"That is so rude," his sister complained. "Can you believe it?"

"Um…"

Garen remained silent. These last days, rumors were spreading quickly. Some people thought that the incident had been her fault. He knew the truth, but decided to remain silent.

Up in the stage, the woman was still playing her music. She had long, blue, golden hair tufts and a shiny, pale face which reflected her beauty upon the stage lights. She wore a blue dress that seemed to be floating as if there was no gravity. The woman was playing an extraordinary artifact made of fine wood. It resembled an ancient harp, yet it looked as if it was carved into having a piano-like instrument within it.

The theatre was filled with people who listened to her music in complete silence. Maybe they were in a trance too, as Garen had experienced seconds ago. There was something in her, in her music, which made the air stay still. He could hear the other people breathing, which irritated him. The musical notes bounced in his mind.

He was a soldier; he was made for war. Garen wasn't made for listening music.

But he and his sister were hardly together, as he was most of the time out of the city fighting. It was the first time his sister asked him for a favor and he couldn't say no.

Suddenly, the woman at the stage began to strengthen her music, which faded every thought that was in his mind. The music was now powerful, filled with rage and pride. Garen couldn't feel his toes. He tried to move, but in vane. He was completely paralyzed.

He looked at his sister alarmed, but she found her smiling, which made him feel a little bit more relaxed. The melody kept going for a couple of hours. It was ravishing, nostalgic, hopeful and deeply moving.

When the music was finally over, the audience began to applaud with inconceivable strength. The woman in blue turned to the public, bowing harmoniously as a token of her appreciation. The music, in an odd way, was still present in the atmosphere of the theatre. It kept resonating in Garen's ears, which made him feel uncomfortable.

Both Garen and his sister headed to the exit and stepped into the streets of Demacia. The sun was rising high up in the sky. Merchants walked everywhere among the city, trying desperately to sell their products.

These were hard times, Garen remembered. He could sense fear from the citizens. Since the incident, everyone was more afraid of war than ever before.

Garen turned back for an instant. At the top of the building from where they'd come out from stood a large sign which read: "SONA IN CONCERT TODAY – SOLD OUT"

"We should do this more often, Lux," Garen said.

"Seriously?" she said, laughing. "I saw your face in there. It looked as if you would grab your sword and start destroying everything."

"I mean, hanging out with you. It's fun. Makes me forget about everything," he answered.

"_Please don't think I'm trying to forget what you've done," _Garen thought hopefully. Since the incident, some had started blaming him instead of his sister. Everything was already messed up, and he didn't want to make things worse. He didn't want her to think he was ashamed.

Lux smiled at him.

"_Phew,"_ he sighed.

They both kept walking among the busy and crowded streets heading towards the center of the city.

Demacia was a beautiful place to live, he thought. The city was shining with pride. The city walls near them gleamed with power and nobility. In front of them, the Palace stood in the middle of the city gloriously, with its white, marble walls, majestic flags and towering spires. As they got closer to the residence of the king, the scenario changed. Dusty streets became cobbled streets. The buildings were nicer, and there were no more merchants yelling around at the passing citizens. There were plenty of clothing and antique furniture shops. Well-dressed people walked slowly at Garen's sides.

From time to time, someone looked at them in a threatening way, blaming them for what had happened.

People also emerged from the balconies to breathe some fresh, Demacian air. Garen was proud of Demacia. It was splendorous and beautiful, even in times of disgrace and war. He admired it greatly.

The journey wasn't interrupted yet silence was dominant. Garen had no idea where they were heading. Lux seemed a bit nervous, as if she was recalling the disaster from last week. She had a beautiful face and straight, blond hair.

Instead, Garen was stocky; he had brown hair and was much taller than her. He really looked like a warrior, unlike her. But he knew what she was capable of, and didn't underestimate her as most did.

"Garen, I'm hungry," she suddenly spoke. "Would you go with me to The Warrior's Inn?"

Garen hesitated a while.

"Okay," he finally replied. There were important things he had to do at the barracks. However, he hadn't eaten breakfast that morning. Midday was close and his stomach was rumbling.

A few streets away from the palace they turned right and kept walking a few more minutes. Finally, they approached an elegant building between some shops. The place had a small badge of wood which read "The Warrior's Inn", followed by a carving: a soldier riding a horse standing on its two legs.

When they entered the inn, Garen and Lux sat at a table next to a window. It was cold in there. The place was small, but it had enough space so that a few tables and chairs could fit in. There weren't many people at the moment, but Garen knew many came here and got drunk, especially at night. The bartender, a short, fat, elderly man counted his profits behind the bar greedily. A young woman approached them.

"Welcome to The Warrior's Inn," she said, with a sweet voice and a forced smile, looking at Garen. When she saw Lux, her face changed completely. She looked panicked and scared.

Garen looked at her as if saying: _"Be careful of what you say!"_

"I-I-I'll be right back," she stammered, and left them alone.

He looked at his sister. She seemed offended, but tried to stay calm. When would this nightmare stop? Garen had had the same conversation with her several times, but he found it hard to believe her. He looked at her with indecision.

"It wasn't my fault!" she suddenly freaked out. "I have already told you so! Why are they still blaming me?"

"_Too late,"_ he said to himself.

"Maybe they don't understand," Garen replied.

"_I still don't understand,"_ he thought.

"I wasn't aware of my actions!" Lux defended herself.

"Hey, I believe you," Garen lied.

His sister looked scared, as if she was trying hard to believe what she herself was saying. She looked fragile. It was Garen's duty to protect her since their parents had gone.

"It's just…" Her eyes began to tear and she sobbed. "It was that music. There was a voice in my head that said: "It was your fault!" I… I tried to resist it, but it was way stronger than me. Maybe it _was_ my fault."

"You can't say that, Lux," Garen said. He felt pity for her. "Whatever happened, it's over now. You can't start blaming yourself for the rest of your life."

She doubted. A few tears fell from her eyes.

"Hey," he said, holding her face, "remember what dad used to tell us?"

Lux nodded.

"No matter what happens, always be strong."

"Do not listen to others," Garen continued. "The only thing that is worth listening to is your heart, which is your guide and will always tell us if we're right or wrong," he chanted as if she had said the same words a thousand times. "So? What does your heart tell you?"

She smiled.

"You are pretty soft to be the leader of the Dauntless Vanguard, Garen," she laughed. "I'm glad you're here with me."

"Me too."

Garen was pleased the moment had passed. He didn't know how, but he always made his sister feel better. He wasn't just powerful in combat. His words were wise, too. For some reason they called him "the Might of Demacia".

After a few minutes, they were enjoying a nice breakfast. The inn filled with people with the passing of time. Now the place was loud and laughter could be heard continuously.

"Any news from the warfront?" Lux asked Garen.

"Very few. The enemy is moving, according to our spies," Garen informed her.

"Spies?"

"Shhh!" he hissed. "No one outside the Palace must know. Top secret, understand?"

"Why? Do you think Noxus has spies here too?"

Garen remained silent for a few seconds.

"Just precaution," he answered. He knew something was stirring in the horizon, but decided to ignore that thought. Whatever the enemy was up to, he didn't want to know.

"What about the prince?" Lux asked curiously.

"Why the sudden interest?" he questioned. That kind of attitude was suspicious coming from her. Usually she would just ignore everything what happened in the outer world and lock herself in her studies.

"Hm, I don't know. But it's something that concerns everyone here at Demacia, right?"

There was a brief pause.

"You're right," Garen hesitated.

"So?"

"So what?" he scratched his frown.

"Jarvan IV…" she muttered rolling her eyes.

"Oh, right!" he came out of his deep thoughts. "No, no news from him. All Demacia is worried. Although I've heard reports of spies at Zaun that mention that something is going on there. There is more activity than before. The scientists are up to something huge, but we have no clue of what. I'm concerned Zaun will make a huge difference in this war," he reported.

Lux kept silent.

"We have also noticed that pirates are roaming the seas more often. Bilgewater is more threatening than ever. Ionia is at risk."

"Why doesn't the king just send the whole army to destroy Noxus? Wouldn't that be much easier?" Lux suggested.

"And risk the prince's life? No way. If they are holding him captive, he won't do something like that until he is released and safe. Besides, most of the army is defending the borders at the moment. The king hasn't ordered an attack yet. I wonder what he is up to. Maybe we shall find out soon."

"I see…" she murmured.

All this sudden interest… It wasn't common, Garen thought once more. It looks like since the disaster, she was trying to help in some way so that everyone would forget what she'd done. He couldn't blame her. He knew the feeling; to feel that everything's lost. That nothing remains. Garen was really worried about his sister.

At that moment, the doors of the Inn opened wide, banging against the walls and emitting a strong, hollow sound. The tremor made Lux jump of surprise. All the people diverted their gaze towards the man who had just entered.

He was tall and middle-aged. He had black hair and a large ponytail. He was having trouble breathing, as if he'd run through the entire city. In his right hand he held tightly a mighty spear with a purple banner. Garen recognized him immediately. It was the king's right hand; the Seneschal of Demacia.

The Might of Demacia was perplexed. He felt the Seneschal was carrying an important message. He didn't know why, but a sudden thought that his life was about to change struck his mind.

"Xin Zhao… What...?" he managed to splutter. He was in shock. Lux looked disturbed too.

"Garen, hurry!" he exclaimed, "Jarvan III requests your presence at the Palace, immediately!"


End file.
